


I wonder if flowers bloom in your eyes

by iwearplaids



Series: Burn the witches [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, bellarke if you squint, ft miller and bellamy as best friends, i dont even have a proper explanation for this lol, ishhh..... slight fantasy, millamy if you squint, mostly just bellamy and clarke, season 1 AU, so just read and let me know??, witch!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 11:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19973422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwearplaids/pseuds/iwearplaids
Summary: The silence stretches as Clarke ties the ends of the bandage around his torso. She sees the blood already soaking a significant part of the bandage, yet still hopes that the bandage and the herb cream will give them a few extra hours of stability. She feels Raven look at her, from where she sits by Finn’s head, her hands cradling his face, probably for some words of reassurance and comfort but Clarke has none to give.AKA Finn is dying and Clarke is loosing hope that he'll make it alive so goes to the one person who can make miracles happen.





	I wonder if flowers bloom in your eyes

The silence stretches as Clarke ties the ends of the bandage around his torso. She sees the blood already soaking a significant part of the bandage, yet still hopes that the bandage and the herb cream will give them a few extra hours of stability. She feels Raven look at her, from where she sits by Finn’s head, ~~her hands cradling his face,~~ probably for some words of reassurance and comfort but Clarke has none to give. So, she leaves the temporary med room, in the pretense of giving the couple some privacy so that she doesn’t feel guilty, and scans around the camp for their leader.

Her co-leader.

She grimaces at that realization.

It’s not a role she volunteered for and she doesn’t enjoy the responsibility. People don’t follow her like they follow Bellamy; he’s got a natural leadership streak in him. But since that burden has been placed on her, she follows through. She may not enjoy the responsibility of leadership, but she loathes the feeling of letting people down.

She finds him among a few delinquents, working on the wall with Miller by his side. Which isn’t a surprise because when is Miller _not_ by his side.

“We need to talk.” She storms up to him, not bothering to hide all the frustration that has been building up inside her. At Finn. At Raven. At Finn. At this stupid planet. At Finn. At the Ark. At Finn. At her mom. At Finn! And this stupid boy in front of her who refuses to help her out.

“Trouble in your castle, princess?” The teasing smile grows easily on his face, like it belongs there.

Miller shakes his head with a soft look on his face, like he’s privy to a secret Clarke doesn’t know. He nods once at Bellamy who replies silently and watches the younger boy leave the leaders alone.

“Can’t you do something?” She hisses at Bellamy who looks more amused and perplexed.

“I was doing something,” he points at the wall behind him, “till you stopped me, princess.”

“I mean, about Finn. Can’t you just lend a little help?”

The chances of Finn making it through weren’t all that great. And as much as Clarke feels like strangling the boy herself, she can’t watch him die. But Bellamy could help, couldn’t he? She’s heard rumors of witches even bringing people back from the dead. So, this should be a walk in the park for him.

“I’m not getting into _that_ mess. You get the dubious pleasure of cleaning that up. I’m sorry but…” He shrugs sheepishly.

“Not _that_.” She growls again and takes a step closer to him. “Finn is dying. And you know I promised to not let anyone know about… that you are… you have…” she looks at him expectantly, hoping he knows what she means. “I won’t let anyone know your secret, but I need help healing him.”

At that Bellamy loses his calm.

He tries not to show to it, but Clarke can see it in the way his face hardens, lips pursing and eyebrows coming together. His eyes dart around the camp, in the direction Miller walked away and then everywhere else.

“That’s not really the kind of _thing_ I do.”

What she can’t see is his disappointment; at her and at himself.

Magic was a muscle; he’d learnt that very young, but that was one muscle in him that wasn’t trained. He never learned or practiced it and he had very few skills other than hiding it from everyone.

“Sorry, princess, I’m not exactly Harry Potter.”

“You know Harry Potter?”

“I was poor, not illiterate.”

“That’s not what… I wasn’t trying to say that. You know it.”

“Do I?”

“Forget I said anything.” Her frustration grows even more, Bellamy being as difficult as ever and leading her nowhere with the dying boy in the camp. She doesn’t argue with Bellamy about this not being something he can help with. She trusts him. And she doesn’t know anything about witches to base her arguments on anyway.

“Want to know a secret?” Not waiting for her reply, he leans in, his mouth next to her ear. “You don’t need a witch to heal him; you need a doctor.” He gives her a solemn look and turns back at his work in progress.

* * *

Turns out, she didn’t need Mr. Magic Blake after all. Finn lived with just her medical talents and desperate prayers. Jasper and Monty thought it called for a moment of celebration.

Meaning camp party.

She tried to be as far from Finn and Raven as she could. That lead her right next to Bellamy; sitting alone with Miller no where in sight.

“Miller?”

“Asleep.”

She nods at that and sits by him in companionable silence. Till he unceremoniously holds her hand.

She doesn’t question it for a moment, enjoying the feel of his warm hands in hers, but eventually her curiosity wins, and she turns a questioning look at him.

“This is the kind of thing I do.”

His ominously vague reply is followed by him walking away to get a refill of moonshine. He leaves her with a lavender on her palm, glowing like the butterflies in the woods, with its leaves twirled around her finger.

_Pretty._

She catches his gaze across the campfire, and he throws her a genuine smile raising his cup of moonshine.

_Really pretty._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I love comments, please give me some. Criticisms are also welcomed with open arms.


End file.
